Work Text:
I. Morning: A Perfect Start
Sae wakes up to the soft warmth of Isagi beside him, sunlight filtering through the curtains. His eyes are barely open, but instinct takes over before conscious thought kicks in—his hand immediately finds Isagi’s ass.
He squeezes.
"Mmm," Isagi stirs, groggy. "Sae, what…?"
Sae doesn’t answer, just buries his face against Isagi’s shoulder and gives another squeeze, fingers pressing against the perfect shape.
"Morning," he mutters, entirely unbothered.
Isagi sighs before yawning, "You’re unbelievable."
Sae would argue, but he’s too busy enjoying the start of a perfect day.
II. Breakfast: Most Important Meal
After Sae was done with his brief morning yoga and meditation, he heads to the kitchen.
Isagi’s already there, making breakfast, boiling some miso soup with vegetables as they wait for the rice to finish cooking. He’s dressed in nothing but sweatpants that hang low on his hips. Sae leans against the counter, watching the stretch of firm muscle at his back as it tapers down, his eyes trained on one thing only.
Despite being covered—or perhaps because it is covered, he notices the roundness of his ass, the flex of Isagi’s hips as he shifts from one foot to another, and the soft bounce whenever he reaches up into the spice cabinet.
Sae steps forward, arms looping around Isagi’s waist, pulling him against his chest. His hands immediately find their target, palming Isagi’s ass as he presses his face into the crook of his neck.
"Sae, I’m literally cooking."
"And?" Sae murmurs, fingers squeezing.
Isagi groans, but he doesn’t push him off. Sae nuzzles his nape before resting his chin on Isagi’s shoulder.
His breakfast was always served with a little something extra.
III. Exercise: A Spectator Sport
They hit the gym after breakfast. Obviously, they have a training regimen to follow, and Sae is a professional with every intention of actually working out. But then Isagi starts doing squats.
Sae stops mid-stretch.
The way the sweat glistens on Isagi’s lower back, the way his muscles tighten and relax—Sae watches.
He could focus on his own workout.
Or he could keep watching.
So he does.
"Are you just gonna stare?" Isagi asks, raising an eyebrow.
Sae shrugs. "...Did I need permission?"
“...”
IV. Lunch: Strategic Planning
They sit across from each other, eating quietly. Sae listens to Isagi talk about soccer, training schedules, and upcoming matches.
But Sae is distracted. Deep in thought.
Every bite of food Isagi takes, every clump of rice—it all has a destination.
Sae glances down at Isagi’s waistline. His brain is mapping it out, calculating how every meal, every extra calorie, will go straight to those hips and that ass.
The corner of his lip twitches up for a brief second.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" Isagi asks, suspicious.
"No reason," Sae replies as he picks up some chicken with his chopsticks and places it in Isagi’s bowl.
Yes, the protein will help.
V. Soccer Practice: A Temporary Focus Shift
On the field, Sae actually concentrates. Dribbling drills, passes—this is his element.
But every now and then, his eyes flicker to Isagi. The way he moves, how his shorts ride up just right.
For once, though, Sae stays professional. He’ll admire later.
For now, he plays.
(But Isagi’s ass is still in his peripheral vision.)
VI. Nap Time: Premium Pillow Experience
Back at home, Isagi stretches out on the couch, scrolling through his phone. Sae, fresh out of the shower, does what he always does.
Without a word, he flops down, resting his head directly on Isagi’s ass.
The perfect pillow.
"...Are you serious?" Isagi deadpans.
Sae adjusts slightly, letting out a sigh. "Mm. Stay still."
Isagi huffs, but he doesn’t move. Sae pulls his sleeping mask over his eyes and fully knocks out.
Routine undisturbed.
VII. Dinner: An Actual Meal
When Sae wakes up, they make dinner together and he actually concentrates on eating. No distractions. No thoughts about where the food is going.
(Okay, maybe one thought. But he keeps it to himself.)
VIII. Game Review: Total Focus
After dinner, they sit together and review past matches. He takes notes on his laptop, points out mistakes, and makes new training plans.
For once, he isn’t distracted. Total focus mode.
Isagi watches him, smirking. "So you can focus on something other than my ass."
Sae glances at him first, then his eyes instinctually begin to look down pointedly now that he was reminded. "Only temporarily."
IX. Nighttime Activities: The Grand Finale
Then, things escalate.
Isagi rides him, reverse-cowgirl style, knees digging into the mattress. Sae watches, utterly entranced at the sight, his hands gripping Isagi’s hips as he bounces—slow at first, teasing, before picking up speed.
Sae is losing his mind.
Isagi pants, before slowing just a little to turn his head and smirk. "Like the view?"
Sae exhales deeply, squeezing his hips. "Love it."
His fingers slide lower, gripping tight. "Keep going." His hands move to Isagi’s ass, fingers digging into it, watching how his fingers sink into the flesh. Then, with zero hesitation, he gives a sharp slap, satisfaction flooding him as a red mark blossoms across Isagi’s skin.
Isagi shudders but doesn’t stop, only bites his lip, gripping Sae’s thighs for stability as he moves—harder, faster.
Sae keeps watching, watching everything.
He’ll never get tired of this. Never.
X. Aftercare: Maintenance is Important
Once they’re done, Sae cleans Isagi up, pressing soft kisses to his lower back as he massages his ass with fancy moisturizer.
"Taking care of what’s mine," he mutters when Isagi gives him a questioning look.
Isagi just sighs. "You’re ridiculous."
But he lets him do it.
XI. Sleep: The Final Ritual
They settle into bed, and Sae immediately pulls Isagi against him, spooning him. One hand firmly on his ass, because of course it is.
Isagi doesn’t even bother protesting anymore.
"You are seriously obsessed," he mumbles sleepily.
Sae presses a soft kiss to the other’s nape. "I am."
And with that, they drift off. It was a great day, and Sae was already looking forward to doing it all again tomorrow.
Oh, but before that.
XII. Dream of Isagi’s ass.
...
Repeat.